


Personal Hardships

by deervsheadlights



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Gaping, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bottom Tony Stark, Consensual Everything, Dom/sub Undertones, Group Sex, Huge Dick, M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Steve is hung like a horse, Team Bonding, Tony is determined to get that horse dong, Top Steve Rogers, but not really because everyone's sort of doing their own thing, consensual voyeurism, i don't know how tf to tag this, the rest is history
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-18
Updated: 2020-04-18
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:06:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23717902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deervsheadlights/pseuds/deervsheadlights
Summary: Getting Steve to fit is a team effort.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 21
Kudos: 257





	Personal Hardships

**Author's Note:**

> let's be real, something like this probably already exists because this fandom is filthy. i see y'all.
> 
> idk where this came from. i mean, i do know (a twitter convo including but not limited to a gif of people trying to fit a sofa into a car) but i have no idea how i got from there to writing and posting this fic. oh christ.
> 
> also – there's no on-screen kink negotiation happening or explicit consent given but please imagine that both did happen beforehand :)

Tony was drooling in Natasha's lap. 

She sat at the head of the bed with her legs folded to the side, creating a pillow. Her gray sweatpants were graced with a dark patch where the side of Tony's face was pressing into her thigh, mouth hanging open. Every once in a while, he would moan and more would dribble from the corner of his lips, a string of saliva soaking into the material below.

Often, the moans were followed by a shudder, and Nat would purr an endearment or other into Tony's ear while she continued to tread her fingers through his sweat-soaked hair, fingernails scratching over his scalp. 

"Вот и все, котенок," she mumbled right then while her other hand slipped past the waistband of her sweats, her voice an octave or two deeper than the one she'd usually fall into. 

Steve dug his fingers harder into the flesh at Tony's hips when his walls worked around the head of his dick yet again. He was three inches in, give or take, and Tony was mewling and spasming around him at the tiniest movement, his opening already too far stretched to close up properly.

It was only a fraction of what Steve had to give, and Tony _knew_ and got off on it. He was so utterly wretched, and they weren't anywhere near done, had barely even started, and Steve just–

A muted groan slipped past his lips and it took a worrying amount of self-restraint not to snap his hips forward as he came, coating Tony's insides. Steve'd been holding off for what felt like ages and was surprised by his own self-restraint; he expected to shoot his first load a lot sooner. The feeling of his release spilling inside Tony had the other man's eyes roll back and caused him to try and push himself further down on the cock in his ass, forcing Steve to tighten his grip and prevent himself from slipping in any deeper.

Every inch too much too soon had the potential to hurt, even tear, no matter the amounts of lube and prep applied. 

And all that thanks to Steve's size. 

He had been disproportionately big even before the serum, and that bodily feature was increased tenfold after the fact. In reality, he'd never felt as smug about that particular result of his transformation as one might assume. With his girth and length, penetrative sex inevitably became a hardship, and until Tony, it had always scared off rather than attracted people.

Plus, there was the added not-benefit that every piece of clothing would pinch in the groin area if not tailored to his exact measurements, and witnessing even the ever-impassive Coulson do a double-take at the sheet where Steve had written his numbers down for that exact purpose was a whole other type of embarrassment Steve hadn't thought he had still in him to feel. 

Tony had been so determined to let Steve fuck him (had gotten that heady, glazed-over look in his eyes whenever he talked about it that drove Steve crazy) he didn't let up until Steve caved, on the condition that they'd take some weeks to prepare him for the main event best as possible.

Not that the idea of Tony taking his prick hadn't been arousing from day one. He had entertained the thought and got off on it often enough, but since their sex life was everything but unsatisfactory as it was, he had made peace with the fact that this simply was the one thing they wouldn't get to do. 

Far was it from Tony not to take on a challenge, though. 

The first few times had been far from successful. Steve was– well, simply put, he was _too_ _much_ , and it hadn't mattered how slow or careful he'd gone because Tony would be too tense and wound too tight for them to really get anywhere. It was never going to work unless he was relaxed to the point of being completely boneless, but super-soldier or no, Steve only had the two hands and he'd always go between working Tony open and trying to comfort him at the same time, which just wasn't enough. 

Allowing the team to help had been a decision they'd agreed upon together. All of them had forged a bond that went far beyond amicable companionship in the last years; secrets no matter their nature were practically non-existent, the need for privacy no longer prevalent and intimacies exchanged freely. Privately, Steve thought that at the end of the day, they were not unlike soldiers seeking comfort in one another during times of war, and there was no judgement.

Steve still preferred to keep Tony to himself most days, but sometimes he'd allow the others a glimpse or two – especially when that sneak-peak came with added support from said teammates during their sexual endeavors.

"We'll need more lube here, Clint," Bruce said from somewhere to his right. 

His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he spread Tony's cheek further apart and observed come and slick drip past his two fingers slipped in alongside Steve's already massive length. The puffy, reddened pucker of Tony's hole fluttered uselessly for a moment in a desperate attempt to keep the fluids from leaking out. It was of no avail, however, because they spilled anyway, a trail of white foam traveling past Tony's perineum and even further down until it reached his sac.

"You got it, doc." 

Clint, perched on Steve's other side and immediately obliging by Bruce's request, was a lot less subtle about his enjoyment of the situation and his position of what he'd dubbed "Almighty God of Lube And Other Things Slick And Slippery". (Following that proclamation, Thor especially had needed a minute to curb his immediate, hearty laughter.)

Bruce's touch would've been clinical, could have even been mistaken for perfunctory like a doctor's, had it not been for the sweat on the man's brow and the erection tenting his pants. 

Meanwhile Clint was grabbing Tony's asscheek with intent, kneading it as he tipped the bottle of lube upside down and drizzled a generous amount of it onto the top of Tony's cleft. They all watched with more or less baited breath as the gush of clear liquid made it to the spear of Steve's cock, Bruce's fingers taking over and pushing some of it deeper where it was needed. 

Tony sounded a choked-off groan somewhere up top, and Steve redirected his attention to rub a hand down his side, coming over to stroke up his heaving back. "You're so gorgeous like this, Tony," he told him, voice coarse. "My fella, doing so well. 'm so proud of you." 

The effect Tony had on him in any state would always be overwhelming, but he'd never been as attracted to the man as he was right then, gaze trailing from his flushed face and reddened lips over the graceful slope of his back to the swell of his ass, littered with traces of handprints and split apart by the overbearing intrusion of Steve's erection. It was almost– morbid, how this usually tiny, furled bodily orifice was dilated to accommodate Steve's girth. Some part of him hadn't believed it possible, but there he was, Tony in front of him and keening, wanton for more. _Wanting_ to be pushed to his outermost limits, to be used, to be wrecked. 

Steve's cock gave a twitch, and Tony produced another soft sound of lust but remained relaxed, his walls tight but not gripping him either. 

"It seems our Man of Iron is ready and eager to continue," Thor commented through a low chuckle from where he sat cross-legged at Tony's right with enough distance to observe the other man's reactions. Apart from him and Steve, the demi-god was the only one in the room fully unclothed, fist around his impressive length and entirely unbothered as he stroked himself and enjoyed the show. 

It wasn't long after the Avengers moved into the tower together to fully embrace their status as a team that he'd begun explaining the ways of Asgardian sexuality to the lot of them. Back then, just after Loki and everything that came to pass in New York, they'd still been treading carefully around another and evaluating boundaries – Thor's _very_ animated and explicit tales of how Asgardian warriors would celebrate their victories in battle had caught the rest of them a little off guard to say the least. 

Still, after a few years of living, fighting and approaching one another in more ways than one, they had made it to a point where they at times were alike to the Asgardian soldiers in Thor's raunchy stories.

Steve could tell all of them still had preferences, like how Bruce and Thor would more and more often be found together just as Nat and Clint had their own thing going on (although Natasha seemed to have also taken a liking to Ms. Potts, but Steve didn't have enough insight to make an educated guess on the true nature of their relationship). 

The point was, the people that made up this team weren't prudes, they all enjoyed each other's company no matter the kind, and Steve had never in a million years believed he'd get something like this but he was damn glad to have been proven wrong in that regard. 

Tony was the one to jolt him out of his musings, his hand coming to lay over Steve's at his hip and squeezing in a silent inquiry. And then, his tongue darted out to wet his lips and he voiced that quiet demand in a loud and needy manner. 

"Steve, _move,_ I swear to– _ungh–_ darling, baby, honey, sweetheart, please– _"_

There was a tonal shift in his words halfway through, going from demanding to pleading, and Steve couldn't deny him the request, not when the whimper following shortly thereafter was so very desperate and so very sweet. 

He pushed. The whole combined attention of a group of spies and enhanced individuals was concentrated on him and the willing body he was shoving his dick into, and it was hotter than Steve would ever care to admit after the deed was done. Right then, though, he relished in it, the heat and pressure of Tony's insides swallowing another inch of him and the pleasurable suspense hovering in the air as everyone watched it happen.

It was thrilling. Almost addictive, really, which became evident when Steve studied his own reaction more closely – his every muscle was straining with the effort to hold back, rein himself in and not give into the wild, animalistic desire that wanted him to plunge headfirst into that too-good feeling no holds barred.

He wouldn't, of course. Didn't matter whether parts of his brain were screaming with need, because there was a much greater part that would never allow Tony to be hurt that way (or any other way except those that Tony asked for, for that matter), not even for the fraction of a second. 

His very being strived against the prospect of causing Tony harm, and that was quite enough to make him stop his ministrations as soon as he heard a muffled, pained grunt uttered by the other man. 

"Let us take care of it, умняшка," Nat said softly, addressing Tony who had evidently been trying to suppress the sound indicative of his pain for a while. Steve felt a twinge of guilt, knowing he should've noticed sooner even through the hazy veil of excitement and lust. 

Natasha looked up and shook her head at him, nearly imperceptible but obvious to someone who knew what to look for. Either Steve's pinched expression revealed what he was thinking or she was the mind reader he'd long since suspected her to be. Then, she returned to brushing her fingers over the side of Tony's face, tracing the line of his eyebrow, the curve of his cheekbone and the edge of his jaw. She followed the impeccable cut of his goatee to his mouth, where her fingers promptly slipped past his lips. 

Tony hummed, first in surprise and then in pleasure, his already blown pupils widening minimally as he tasted her on the skin. Content, his eyes slipped back and his cheeks hollowed as he began sucking on the digits, shuddering breath leaving through his nose. 

Next to him, Bruce and Clint moved to repeat the process from before, working with a practiced efficiency. Steve smiled gratefully at them when he caught their gazes by happenstance along the way. They still had about two thirds to go, and the both of them had been a great help so far – he really was thankful, considering him and Tony would get the most out of this. 

Although, taking in the scene, it couldn't be denied that even from the sidelines, this had to be a sight to behold. Thor was pretty much living proof for that assumption, as he had barely moved from his spot for the better part of the last hour and still seemed as invested as he had been in the beginning. 

They were still far from the finish line – in the literal and figurative sense, seeing as Tony, for one, would only get to come once Steve would get to fuck him in earnest – but it wasn't as if anyone could even think to raise a complaint.

After all, they were getting front-row seats to a lewd and live performance of something no one on the outside would ever be privy to. 

—

If Steve thought he'd known bliss before, he was wrong. 

His eyelids fluttered shut with a few, rapid blinks and his mouth fell open in a long-drawn, breathy groan as he bottomed out, _finally._

"This is what I meant to explain to you," Thor said from somewhere, but his voice seemed far away, echoing in the wonderfully empty chamber of Steve's mind. "To join the men and women you join in battle in another kind of ecstasy is unique. It is special. You will know more of them after one act of love than in thousands of violence." 

Steve thought he agreed and he could hear himself hum, but the thought was of little importance at the moment and this noise was one that directly correlated with the feel of Tony around him, all-encompassing, a velvety embrace of white-hot heat and pressure just on the side of too much.

He shuddered, knowing everyone was watching and came again, instinctively rocking his hips into the softness of Tony's rear as far they'd go. A futile endeavor, as he was already balls deep, but it still felt good to oblige by the urge and calm that old, animal part of his hindbrain. 

When he had the presence of mind to open his eyes, Tony was trembling and panting hard beneath him, the arch of his back exaggerated and his forehead pressed into a pillow while his mouth remained free to suck in air. A little dazed, Steve frowned, looking for Natasha who was gone – and found her between Clint and Bruce, who had joined Thor on the empty side of the bed as well. All of them were in varying states of undress and intently focused on what was playing out in front them. 

Steve knew he looked dumbstruck, like a fish out of water, but he'd just had one of the best orgasms of his life and he couldn't be bothered to employ more brainpower than the one needed to raise a single, questioning eyebrow at their audience.

Thor laughed, Nat _snickered,_ Bruce's lips twitched with the hint of a smirk, and Clint rolled his eyes. The latter also was the one to say, "C'mon, man. We helped, now we want a proper show. Tony's gonna die of blue balls if you don't give him his time of day. And uh, me too, by the way."

Tony wheezed an unintelligible sound. Then, he held a finger up, imploring them to wait as he lifted his head from the pillow and turned it to shoot Steve a lopsided grin. 

His hair was plastered to his forehead, skin flushed, bottom lip littered with teeth marks, eyes dark and the gleam in them sultry. He was filthy, the personification of Steve's dirtiest, most carnal desire, and drop- _dead_ gorgeous to a point Steve thought he felt his heart beat out of rhythm for a moment, like not even his enhanced body could cope with the amounts of dazzling, nearly ethereal beauty his senses were assaulted with. 

"What he said," Tony provided, voice like sandpaper, finger pointing at Clint. "And you know I wouldn't say that if the situation wasn't dire." 

Steve didn't have to be told twice. He was hard again, for the fourth time – had barely ever gone soft, in all honesty. How could he, with Tony in his wake?

"Whatever you want, sweetheart," he answered, smile maybe a little too fond for the salacious things that had happened and would be happening. He looked pointedly at Clint, who snorted when Steve added, "I aim to please." 

Without any further delay, he began pulling his cock out, only an inch or two, before pushing back in. Tony had barely started to acclimate to the intrusion, which meant he'd have to take it slow for a while, let him get used to it until he could started up a proper rhythm.

Tony flopped back down onto the covers entirely, head on the side facing their teammates, which was definitely a deliberate choice on his part. They'd get to see his coming undone, every twitch and raw detail as he'd be taken apart by Steve's dick in him, his every emotion bared to the people around them. 

Tony _loved_ this. Steve had known he'd like it, had seen it in his nervous energy (fidgeting hands, bouncing on his toes, exaggerated expressions) and of course, the subtle bulge in his denim when they had, in every sense of the word, propositioned the others. But this– this was something else. A large portion of his enjoyment stemmed from Steve in him, but another, equally strong one originated from the knowledge that he was being watched, assessed, taken apart by prying gazes just as he was by Steve's dick. 

For Steve, this came as a somewhat unexpected development, considering he'd usually avoid letting anyone in on his emotional state, which included his deepest desires. On the other hand, this was _Tony_ , and if there was one thing everyone knew, it was that he loved sex and flaunting his sexuality whenever he saw fit, and this most definitely was such an occasion. 

Tony's body shook around him violently on the next thrust in, and Steve stilled as a momentary feeling of horror shot through him. The other man whined in response, inching back to take slip more of him inside – the reaction had been a positive one. Steve resumed his movement and aimed to hit that same spot he had brushed previously, and there: Tony twitched again, fingers clutching the sheets spasming, and moaned an obscene sound that made arousal flare up with renewed vigor in every cell of Steve's body. 

"Yeah, there we go, baby– that's right," he could hear himself say, words drowned out by the blood rushing in his ears. "Tha's where you need it, isn't it? Right there, 's where you're sweetest for me?"

Again, Steve drove in at the same angle, with more force this time. Tony _howled._ "Yes, oh–motherf– **_yes_ ,** Steve!" 

A deep, pleased sound emerged from his own chest, escaping between his clenched teeth as he dared to pick up speed, nailing the man's prostate with every other thrust. (He hadn't had the fortune of having Tony like this before, but he damn well knew where his sweet spot was.) 

Steve increased the pace steadily, not getting all too brave and (re)collecting himself when he felt the want to, and he soon built up a satisfying rhythm, long, deep strokes. They coaxed one wanton _ah_ out of Tony after the other, the noises rising in pitch, getting higher and shriller and spurring Steve on to make it even better the next time around.

Distantly, Steve was aware of the others in the room, various sounds of pleasure and skin on skin reaching his ears as they, too, got to enjoy the final act of this frankly magnificent performance. And Tony – Steve groaned again as the delicious heat swallowed him – Tony was the best of them all. 

"Ah, darling, please– _mhhh–_ Steve, Stevestevesteve, please–" 

The words were spoken between breathy moans and something that Steve didn't know how else to call but a _gurgle,_ and his hands were flitting over the mattress and between his legs in a frantic, desperate haste. Steve knew what he needed, and took mercy on him – he'd been so good for so long, had held on even through the tedious and painful bouts to allow Steve that kind of pleasure. He more than deserved it. 

Steve leaned over him, blanketing his body, and reached down to pull the ring off his straining cock, wet from the tip to the base and bouncing between his legs. He'd been aware it would be over soon after Tony would be free to reach his climax, but the speed at which it happened was still astounding. One moment, Tony was clawing at the sheets, bucking with a fervor to meet every single of Steve's thrusts, and the next–

The next, Steve did something he'd wanted to do from the beginning; the picture in front of his inner eye alone almost managed to get him off.

He slipped all the way out, angling his hips back and watching with a depraved kind of wonder as his ruddy cockhead popped out (long time no see), and. And Tony's opening shrunk back to not its original size, but to a size that actually left a hole, and Steve could see it, could see inside, could see the mess of come and lube just flowing out like he'd turned on a faucet–

" ** _Steve!_ ** _What the_ **_fuck_ ** _are you, are you doing, I need–"_

Tony uttered a _noise,_ something that Steve realized was a choked sob only a beat later. The man was glaring daggers at him from over his shoulder, and there were tears in his eyes – not caused by pain or something of similar nature, but ones of ecstasy, of overwhelming pleasure and, as it seemed, of frustration. 

Steve was quick to heed the demand. This was bound to be one of the best parts. His swollen tip nudged Tony's fucked-out entrance, and then he was gliding in, resistance made almost non-existent by the liquids sloshing inside him, and with one full, uninterrupted push, Steve was sheathed inside.

The sensation was amplified hundredfold that very next moment, as the body around him trembled violently, Tony's walls tightening weakly as his every muscle tensed and he came with a keen that sounded of pure euphoria. 

It didn't take anything more for Steve to follow him over the edge; really, Steve didn't follow, he was dragged. There was no conscious decision made, nothing he could've done to prevent it from happening.

He was lucid one moment, and a second later all that need coiled in his abdomen washed over him in a perfect crescendo of sensation – Tony around him, the slaps of their meeting bodies that came with Steve rutting into him, the moans of multiple people, himself included, and all of it reverberating in the darkness of his head as he squeezed his eyes shut. 

Everything was bliss for a few endless moments that turned out to be finite after all. 

The first thing he noticed upon blinking his eyes open was, of course, Tony. Tony, who was now laying flat on his chest with his arms crossed on the pillow in front of him, only his hips still lifted up to meet Steve's where he was buried inside. Tony, who was smiling, a little delirious with the ebbing pleasure of his afterglow. He looked sweaty and thoroughly fucked and _still,_ beautiful. 

Steve would never know how he did it. 

"Hey, big guy," he drawled, weak smirk accompanied by a wink. Big was– an understatement and Tony knew, but Steve felt like he'd never let him live it down if he pointed that out (even though it _was_ the truth, because there had never been a _big_ guy in human history who'd needed four assistants to have anal sex), so he let it be. 

"Hey yourself," Steve answered, taken aback at the sound of his own voice. He used the time he needed to clear his throat to change their position, laying down to spoon Tony, still inside of him. "Was that good? Everything you hoped for?" 

Tony opened his mouth, about to answer, when someone piped in from the other side of the bed. "Yup," a voice that definitely belonged to a post-coital Clint said. "Ten out of ten. Would participate again. Five stars on Yelp."

There was a slap and a shrill, reactionary _ow,_ and although Steve wasn't watching, he could see that was Nat's doing in his peripheral vision. And peace was restored.

When he managed to draw his eyes away from Tony and looked over, the rest of the team was lounging in different poses all over the bed; Clint with his head on Nat's stomach, Bruce flopped over Thor's front, one large hand resting on his back. 

"It was, uh, nice, though," Bruce said, briefly glancing at everyone in the room to see their nods of agreement. "I mean, if you guys ever feel like repeating this, I don't think any of us would decline." 

"Aye," Thor said, through the kiss he was pressing onto Bruce's temple. 

Well, then. That was good to know, except the person whose opinion he cared for most still hadn't answered. But as was to be expected, when Steve regarded Tony, the man was smirking at him in a way that was not to be mistaken for anything but approval. He looked downright eager, even. 

"Agreed. How about, I don't know, say– next week, when I can walk again?" 

Someone (Clint) shouted a _woo-hoo,_ but Steve ignored it in favor of leaning down and pouring his all into a kiss filled with deep affection that was for no one to feel but Tony. 

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if you enjoyed. wink.


End file.
